Full Figured 12

by La Jill Hunt

  “Well, damn.” Var frowned. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Oh, hey, Var,” Caldwell said.

  “This is the nigga who was in my car? You fucking the handyman now?” Var sneered. “I guess I see why you lost all that weight. You left me to be with the fucking help. Ain’t that a bitch.”

  “Var!”

  “Hold up, man. There’s no need for all that,” Caldwell told him with extra bass in his voice.

  “Don’t tell me what there’s a need for. You been plotting on Zen for a while now, Caldwell. I ain’t stupid.” Var stepped past me and toward Caldwell.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to calm down, man.” Caldwell stood firm.

  “Var, please don’t do this. Just go away,” I pleaded.

  “Don’t tell me what the fuck to do,” Var said.

  I tried my best to grab hold of Var, but he snatched away. Tension was thick, and I knew if the two of them came to blows, it wouldn’t be a fair fight, not only because Var was taller and bigger, but because Caldwell was recovering from surgery. Var normally didn’t have a temper and he wasn’t a fighter, but he enjoyed being able to intimidate people with his size and have them back down from him. Caldwell seemed as if he wasn’t going to back down.

  “Don’t do this, man,” Caldwell warned. “You don’t want it.”

  Before I could stop him, Var shoved Caldwell, and he stumbled backward. Luckily, he didn’t fall. He grimaced in pain, and I jumped in front of him.

  “Var!” I yelled.

  “Get out the way, Zen.” Var took another step forward.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  We all looked at Josh, who had walked up on us.

  “Var, please leave,” I said between clenched teeth.

  “This ain’t got shit to do with you, playa. Move on,” Var growled and lurched at Caldwell again. He was stopped by Josh, who snatched him back.

  “What the fuck?” Var yelled, seemingly just as surprised by Josh’s actions as I was. “Get the fuck off me, you pretty-boy motherfucker.”

  “You need to walk away now, bruh. It’s over,” Josh told him.

  “Man, shut the—” Var said, now surrounded by me, Caldwell, and Josh.

  “LeVar, stop it!” I screamed as I held onto Caldwell, who was leaning on me. “You need to leave. Someone is gonna call security.”

  He turned and looked at Josh, then he turned to me and said, “Fuck you, Zen. You know what? Give me my fucking car.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe he was behaving this way. I had never seen him so angry.

  “You think I’m gonna let you drive another nigga around in my car? Especially that nigga?” he yelled at me.

  “Are you serious?” I said, shocked by what he was saying.

  “Dead-ass. Give me my fucking keys,” he said.

  “Come on, man. Don’t do this. It ain’t what you think,” Caldwell told him.

  I looked at Josh, who looked confused by the conversation but was eyeing Var like he was ready to give him a beatdown.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Var said, then looked me right in the eye and said, “I want my fucking keys now, or when security does show up, I’m filing a police report for theft.”

  “Var . . .”

  “Give him the fucking keys,” Josh told me.

  “What? No. He—”

  “You heard the man. Give me my fucking keys,” Var said.

  A small crowd had started to form around us. I was embarrassed and didn’t even try to stop angry tears from falling as I took the keys from my purse.

  I tried to reason with Var one final time. “Var, let’s go and talk somewhere.”

  “Oh, now you wanna talk? Naw, Zen. No need for any further conversation. We’ve both said all we need to say,” Var answered.

  Josh walked over and took the keys that were in my hand and tossed them at Var, who caught them. He looked at me one final time before walking off.

  “That’s one bitch-ass motherfucker.” Josh shook his head.

  I thought about running after him and demanding that he give me the keys, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good, and even if there was a small chance that he would listen to me, my pride wouldn’t allow it.

  “Zen, don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be okay.” Caldwell rubbed my back.

  My heart sank as I recalled loving, accepting, and supporting the man that I had once loved and still cared about, who had now publicly humiliated me for no reason whatsoever. I stood there in front of Home Depot as I watched him get into a car that he had given me and drive away. I had officially hit rock bottom.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Josh asked for what seemed like the hundredth time since we’d left the store.

  “I’m good,” I told him. We had just dropped Caldwell off at his mother’s house. His truck was parked outside, and he offered to take me home, but Josh told him to go inside and get some rest, and I agreed. Although he hadn’t mentioned being in pain, I could see that he was moving slower and wincing a lot more since Var shoved him.

  “Did you need to stop anywhere?” he asked.

  “No, you can just take me home.” I gave him the address, and we spent the twenty-minute ride to my gated community listening to Mary J. Blige’s “My Life.” I was tempted to ask him if he was trying to be funny with his selection of music, but based on how he sang along with MJB, I got the sense he listened to it often. Plus, I didn’t feel like making small talk with him. He had helped me out at Home Depot, but that didn’t mean I was over everything else that had happened before. Besides, he insisted I give the keys back to Var, so in the end, he didn’t really help me all that much.

  I gave him the code to enter the subdivision. When we pulled up to the house, I was expecting to see Bailey’s car in the driveway, but it wasn’t there.

  “Damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?” Josh asked.

  “Bailey’s not home, and I don’t have a key.” I reached for my phone and dialed her number, which I’d done several times already on the drive over here. She hadn’t responded to any of my texts either. I leaned back and put my hand across my forehead in frustration.

  “No worries. I’m starving,” he said. “Let’s go get some food and maybe she’ll be home in a little while.”

  I really didn’t have a choice, so I said, “Okay.”

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” I said with a big sigh.

  Not knowing what else to do, I decided to reach out to Var and try to reason with him. I called him, but he didn’t answer, so I sent him a text, hoping he had calmed down.

  Josh was sitting there watching me, still trying to figure out what I wanted to eat. “You feel like fish? We can go to Chubb’s.” He gave me a weak smile.

  “Uh, no.” I shook my head. I really could’ve used a drink, but going back to the scene of our crime would be dangerous.

  “Not in the mood for kamikazes, huh?” he joked. I was too pissed about my car to even be annoyed by his silliness right now.

  “Honestly, I probably could drink a few of them,” I said, “but I’m gonna have to decline.”

  “A’ight, drinks it is!” he announced happily, purposely ignoring my wishes. When I glared at him, he shrugged and said, “They don’t have to be at Chubb’s, and they don’t have to be kamikazes.”

  “Good.”

  “Unless you want kamikazes from Chubb’s.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Even though I still felt overwhelmed, I couldn’t help but smile. Josh smiled back and seemed relieved as he drove out of the neighborhood.

  We ended up at Cheesecake Factory. I hadn’t realized I was hungry until we walked in and my stomach instantly started growling. My mouth watered as I stared at the cheesecakes on display, and I decided that I was going to get a slice, whether or not I had room for it after dinner. After the day I’d had, I deserved it.

  N
ot long after we ordered drinks, Bailey finally called.

  “I’m locked out,” I told her, deciding to spare her the horrific details of the afternoon until later.

  “What? Where are you?” she asked. I could hear a lot of noise in the background and knew she wasn’t home.

  “I’m out with Josh getting something to eat right now. What time will you be home?”

  “Shit, Zen. I’m at the conference in Baltimore,” she told me.

  “What? You’re not supposed to leave until tomorrow night,” I said a little louder than I should have. Two ladies who were seated in the booth across from us looked over, and I mean-mugged them so hard that they immediately looked away. Josh smiled in amusement.

  “I know, but my regional director wanted to meet with a few of us, so he had us come in a day early. Where are your keys?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. My day was getting worse by the minute. I had no car, and now nowhere to go.

  “I lost them,” I told her.

  “Lord have mercy, Zenobia.” Bailey groaned. “I guess you’re gonna have to call a locksmith.”

  The waiter brought our drinks, and I gulped down my entire glass of wine without caring.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Go enjoy your trip. I’ll be fine.”

  “If you don’t figure it out, call me back.”

  I hung up the phone and tried texting Var again.

  “Zen,” Josh said, startling me a little. I’d been so caught up in my dilemma I’d almost forgotten where I was.

  I looked up from my phone. “Yeah.”

  “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Breathe.”

  “What?” I repeated.

  He reached across the table, took the phone from my hand, and before I could protest, he looked at me and said, “Stop and breathe.”

  My eyes met his, and I said, “I told you my life was an even bigger mess than yours. Believe me now?”

  “Your life is fine. What that chump did today was not a reflection on you. That was his bitch-ass-ness, not yours. I mean, I know you told me he was a jerk, and Caldwell had too, but damn.”

  “I’ve never seen him act like that, though. What happened today, that was something different.” I sighed.

  “Don’t make excuses for bad behavior. He’s a grown-ass man who threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the store like a toddler, then demanded that you give him his toy back.” He took a sip of his beer.

  “You’re right. That was inexcusable.”

  “So stop feeling bad about his bullshit.”

  “Right now I’m not feeling bad about his bullshit. I’m feeling bad about my keys because I can’t get into my house,” I told him. “This is the worst.”

  “Nonsense. It could be way worse than this.”

  “Really, how?” I looked up at him.

  “You could still be standing out in front of Home Depot instead of enjoying a nice meal and glass of wine with a handsome gentleman.”

  “Caldwell would not have left me at Home Depot,” I said.

  “Okay, you could be at Caldwell’s house, listening to him and his mom argue,” Josh retorted, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’re right. This is better than that.”

  We ordered our meals, and I finally felt relaxed enough to make small talk while we ate. By the time they brought our dessert to the table, I felt brave enough to ask the question I had been holding in all evening.

  “Why are you so anxious to sell your house?”

  He looked up from his slice of cheesecake and said, “Because that’s not my house.”

  “I’m confused. Whose house is it? Everyone keeps saying it’s your house; even your mom.”

  “Well, technically it’s mine. The deed is in my name, but that house was my brother and my dad’s thing. Building and fixing stuff, that was Ephraim and my dad. They would spend every free moment they had working on it. I remember inviting them to basketball games and tournaments, even offering to pay for them to come out, and they couldn’t come because they were working on the house. Getting them to come to a game was like pulling teeth. My mom would come and support, but the two of them . . .” His voice drifted off, and the pain in his face matched the sound of his voice.

  “I’m sorry. That’s messed up, Josh.”

  “It’s cool. And I know that for my mom, that house is sentimental because it was something Ephraim and my dad worked hard to complete; but for me, it’s a reminder that as hard as I tried to make my dad proud, even making it to the league, I could never compete with that house.”

  I thought about what he said for a second, then offered, “Maybe the competition wasn’t about you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Maybe they were competing with time. They both died right after that house was finished, right? Maybe their determination was because they were on a deadline, like the one we’re on, but they didn’t know it. Before she died, my aunt used to say she was on borrowed time. Your brother could have easily left the house to your mom or your dad because he was still living at the time. But he left it to you. Look at is as a gift they wanted you to have.”

  He didn’t respond at first, and then simply said, “I guess I never thought about it that way. I just always felt like the odd man out when I was around them.”

  “Did they ever invite you to come work on it with them?” I asked.

  “Sometimes,” he admitted.

  “And did you?”

  “Nope, because I guess I figured that was their thing.”

  “Looks like you chose to be an odd man sometimes, huh?” I suggested.

  Josh nodded. “You make a good point.”

  Conversation after that point was exceptionally pleasant, instead of strained and awkward. We laughed and talked, and things seemed to be back to the way they were before the night of drunken sex.

  He paid the check, and while he went to get the car, I excused myself, went into the bathroom, and tried calling Var again. He still didn’t answer. I decided the only thing I could do was get a rental car and hotel room for the night. As I walked out of the restaurant to meet Josh, I began searching online package deals on my phone.

  “Damn it,” I said as I climbed into his SUV.

  “What’s wrong now?” he asked.

  “I was in the middle of making a stupid room reservation, and my phone died.”

  He reached into his console and handed me his phone charger. “Here. Charge your phone. But why are you getting a room?”

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Because I don’t want to sleep in a homeless shelter.”

  “Zen, you know you can stay at my place. It’s not a problem at all,” he said.

  “No, I can get a room. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think your neighbor would appreciate that at all.”

  “You’re funny, but my neighbor and I aren’t like that. Tam and I are just cool. Nothing more.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Josh. And besides, I got a deal on a room and a rental car, so I’m good,” I said, trying to find the deal I had located a few minutes earlier.

  “Put the phone down, Zen. You’re not getting a room. You stayed at my crib before, and you can stay again.” He reached over and took the phone from me. His hand lingered on mine a few seconds longer than necessary, and I felt the hairs on my arm stand up.

  “I was drunk, and so were you,” I said. “Neither one of us was thinking straight.”

  “I was thinking fine. You don’t think I wanted you to stay?” he asked.

  “In that moment, you probably did.”

  “And you didn’t want to?”

  “I did.”

  “So, what’s the problem now? And don’t get it twisted. I’m not inviting you to stay over because I’m trying to do the same thing we did last time,” he said adamantly.

  Hearing him say that made me feel a little slighted,
mainly because I wasn’t sure if he was showing the level of respect he had for me, or he ultimately didn’t want to sleep with me because he wasn’t attracted to me.

  “There isn’t a problem, Josh,” I said, “but can you just take me to pick up a rental car, please?”

  “Zen, you don’t need to get a rental,” he insisted.

  “I have to be able to get around until I figure out this car situation with Var.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to stop worrying?” Josh turned down an unfamiliar street, and we arrived at a storage facility.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  He entered a security code, and the gate opened. He drove through and went all the way to the back, where he parked in front of a unit.

  “I wish you would just trust me and stop asking so many questions. One thing you’re gonna learn about me, Zen, is that when I say I got you, I got you. Do you trust me?”

  I hesitated for a second and finally said, “I guess.”

  “You guess?” He looked surprised and offended.

  “Okay, okay, I do.”

  “Great. Now, get out and come on.” He hopped out of the truck, and I followed him to the door that he was unlocking. I waited as he pulled up the door, stepped in, and turned on the light. I gasped when I saw that it was filled with furniture and boxes.

  “Whoops, this is the wrong one,” Josh said. He reached for the light, but I stopped him.

  “Oh my God, is all of this yours?” I squealed and began searching through the contents of the unit.

  “Sort of. It’s the furniture that came out of the house.”

  “This is a lot of stuff. It’s really nice.” I ran my hand along a framed poster of Josh in his college basketball uniform. “They might not’ve come to your games, but they were definitely your fans.”

  “My mom probably had that made,” he said.

  “But your brother had it in his house.”

  “Come on. What I’m looking for isn’t in here.”

  He opened two other storage units, both filled with furnishings and personal belongings.

  I asked, “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help find it.”

  “A’ight, it’s gotta be in here. This is the last one,” he said as he approached another unit. He pulled the door up and said, “Finally. Here it is. I told you I got you.”